


I'm so in love with the impossibility of us

by Zeibix



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, More angst, Rejection, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, commitment issues, jaydick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:42:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25413364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeibix/pseuds/Zeibix
Summary: Rejection is the worst. (One shot of Dick dealing with emotional baggage)
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Jason Todd
Comments: 6
Kudos: 43





	I'm so in love with the impossibility of us

**Author's Note:**

> Hi hello, I never finish any fics, rip. I'm an angst slut though, so here's some slight porn with angsty feels cuz it's 3 AM. I know it's short and I didn't really put a lot of details into it, but I figured I'd focus mostly on Dick's thought pattern and leave the rest up to the reader. :) Totally wasn't listening to Lord Huron's 'The Night We Met' at the same time. Yikes.

Was he crazy for having that aching desire for someone to declare their undying love for him and vice versa? His heart in exchange for theirs. True love, great love, deep love, _real_ love. No less than the stuff you'd hear in just about every romantic story ever written.  
  
Although he'd done all in his power to keep himself occupied, something just hit harder the moment he hit his bed, dressed down to his underwear, staring at the same old, white ceiling. Does everyone have that craving? It's not that he hadn't realized there was nothing original about his longing, but it surely didn't make it any less painful. The worst thing about cliches is that they are so fucking accurate.   
  
_My heart hurts, it's heavy. I miss you, even if you're no good for me. I want your weight on me. Your scratchy face against my neck, your warm breath against the shell of my ear. **You.**_  
  
All the things Dick had wanted to say.

Someone who sees inside him; All the cracks and dirty bits. The beautiful glowing wounds. The generosity and selfishness. Someone who'd love him with such intensity they'd never give up regardless of the hurt. Someone who'd love him freely without holding anything back. Someone who'd offer him a safespace where he'd be free of pretending it would be any less than what it appeared.   
  
The palm of his hand felt awfully cold as he ran it down his bare chest. The most embarrassing part about his self-soothing techniques was admitting to allow his imagination to go to that place. A deep exhale escaped him as he continued to stare onto the ceiling through his heavy lidded ocean blues. As he gave into the weight of them he was sure, if only just for a moment, he felt Jason's touch rather than his own. The younger man's hands caressing his sun-kissed body with the most gentle of strokes.   
  
_I really enjoy your companionship, but 'm not sure if I'm ready for anything serious.  
  
_ Well, fuck you too.   
  
And despite the anger, this all-consuming loneliness made Dick wonder ... Was Jason ever as lonely as Dick himself? Maybe that was a selfish way of thinking. In fact, he wouldn't even want that for him. But if Jason wasn't the one ... Who was? Where are they? Will they ever arrive?  
  
Loneliness makes one do all kinds of stupid things. It had him wonder about various other lonely souls on dating apps. It's not that he hadn't tried to move on. In fact, he was so desperate to be touched and held he'd been chatting up a good bunch of attractive strangers. But what good would mediocre sex with meaningless people do when all he could ever think about was Jason? To be fair, that wasn't what he wanted either but he did in fact know he was sick of wanting. And waiting. Sick of waking up alone in the dark at 5am, wishing he could press his body against someone elses, hot and hard ... Only to masturbate instead because that was the only option.   
  
  


He wasn't exactly sure what was harder. The feeling of his palm running over the tent of his own underwear or the attempt to hold back the tears. Even more pathetic was it to still wish for the other man's presence. He missed it. His voice, his scent, the weight of his body on top of his own. His rough hands and his gentle words. Being grabbed by the hips and simply allowing for someone else to take charge. To, for once, not have everyone else rely on his leadership and decision making. Letting go had been a comfort; But letting go of that comfort had been a nightmare.

His palm fell over his lips to prevent a whimpering noise from escaping him. It didn't take long for his other hand to find it's way into his briefs, cupping himself harder than he'd initially intended. A desperate attempt to feel something. To replace the pathetic weeping with pleasureable moans. But regardless of many practiced strokes, when closing his eyes, there was only Jason.  
  
 _'I love you,' I thought. - But I didn't say it. I wouldn't trust my voice not to break if I exposed myself to you like that.  
  
  
_ Thinking about it, it's insane how dressing each other down and getting intimate had seemed like the most natural thing. Yet confronting Jason about the longing for them to be more than just physical had left Dick feeling more naked than he'd ever been.  
  


Shifting posture, he moved his palm from his mouth only to throw his lower arm over his eyes as if that'd help prevent the tears. A pathetic view, that he must've been. One hand, still in his underwear. Knees now darting towards one another. Thighs trembling, but not from pleasure.   
  
  
The thing is, he'd already realized it all. There was nothing to be done but to sit with it.  
  
  
The reality of it all being that one simply can't make love _happen._  
  
  


Some people just aren't meant to be together.


End file.
